


Waiting

by Cityofdyingfangirls



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Gen, Kidnapping, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27622133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cityofdyingfangirls/pseuds/Cityofdyingfangirls
Summary: Emily Claremont Diaz was 11 years old when her mother won her first term as President of the United States.She was 15 when her mother won her second term.And she was 16 when she was kidnapped for the first time.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Ellen Claremont/Leo, June Claremont-Diaz/Nora Holleran
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I don’t actually write fics very much, so let me know if this is actually any good.  
> Also I am British, not American, so please correct me if I got any colloquialisms

I had my earphones in.

That was stupid.

I make myself a target, I know that. When Mom started to campaign for president, she sat June, Alex and me down and told us that it would mean change for us. We are biracial children of the first female president, people will want to hurt us. But I never dreamed anyone would actually try to.

But now I am tied to a chair, gagged and blindfolded in a warehouse in the middle of god-knows-where. _Shit_. The zip ties are cutting off the circulation from wrists, and I have pins and needles in my fingers. I flex them, just a little, to try to regain some feeling. I am rewarded with hurried footsteps and the barrel of a gun resting against the back of my head.

A male voice speaks. “Here is how this is going to go, nod so I know you’re listening.”

I nod.

“You aren’t going to utter a single word unless you have been given express permission. If you try anything, and I mean anything, I will send Mommy a video of me blowing your pretty brains across the floor. Nod if you understand.”

I nod.

“Excellent.” The gun leaves my head and I loose a shaking breath. Then the blindfold is removed and I squint my eyes against the sudden onslaught of bright, white lighting. _Not a warehouse apparently. Where am I?_

There are three other men in the room, one bald and tall, one with a thick ginger beard, and one with a crop of dark hair. The man holding the gun is stood in front of me, his tattooed arms folded.

He fishes a phone out of his back pocket and hands it to me. The only app on the homescreen is instagram.

“Log in.”

With shaking hands, I comply, putting in my username: emilyclaremont05 and my password.

He pulls it out of my hands. _So this place has WiFi. Noted._

“723 message requests? Somebody’s popular.”

I glare.

He lines up a shot and then frowns. “We need more blood. Dramatic effect and all that.”

He punches me square in the nose, and my eyes immediately start to water. I can feel blood, hot and thick trickling over my lips and onto my previously pale blue shirt. I _liked_ this shirt. He steps back again.

“What do you think?” He calls to the men behind him.

“Not enough.” Gingerbeard says.

“You know? I think you might be right.” Tattoos says, as he pulls a knife from his belt.

My tears spill over. “Please.” My voice cracks, muffled through the gag that is chafing at the corners of my mouth.

He ignores me and digs the point of the blade between two of my ribs on my left hand side. Not deep enough to do any serious damage, but hard enough that I gasp in pain as more warm, red blood stains my shirt scarlet.

“There we go.” Tattoos steps back, seemingly satisfied with himself. He takes the photo and narrates as he types. “I have been kidnapped. If you would like me returned relatively intact, Mommy Claremont must repeal the Gun Control Act and ban gay marriage across all states.”

My head snaps up in shock. Mom will never. I know the message she will send back. _The United States does not negotiate with terrorists._

Tattoos takes the gag out of my mouth and I quickly try to bite his hand. He slaps me across the face.

“I warned you.”

“I’ve seen enough crappy crime TV shows that I know what it means that you’re not bothering to cover your faces or mask your voices. You’re going to kill me no matter what Mom does.”

“Oh you are a clever little thing,” he says, grasping my jaw in a bruising grip, “are you scared of dying?”

“Not at the hands of cowards like you.” The men laugh and I feel my face flame pink.

Tattoos releases my jaw. “How brave.” And then he leaves, the men filing out of the door after him. The door slams, leaving me alone with nothing to distract me from the throbbing pain in my nose and in my ribs.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry can do nothing but watch as Alex falls into despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the reads! It really means SOOOOO much :)  
> This chapter is a little angsty, so enjoy!!

Henry watches as Alex paces the floor of his room anxiously. He checks his phone again before loosing a long groan and throwing his phone down onto the bed, where it bounces off and onto the floor.

“Shit.” Alex mutters, turning it over to check for cracks. None. Henry hates seeing him like this, consumed by worry and fear, but he understands. Those long weeks when his father had cancer he had been overwhelmed with anxiety, and he understands that this is nowhere near the same thing, but he is just relieved that he can be there for Alex. 

Four hours ago Emily had been late home and Alex and Henry had thought very little of it - she was 16 after all - but then 5 minutes stretched into 15 then stretched into half an hour, and Ellen had sent out emergency secret service agents to where her phone was last traced and when they returned empty handed, she had officially declared Emily missing.

And now Alex is running his hands through his hair in a nervous tic and Henry is watching helplessly as his boyfriend slowly deteriorates into more and more panic.

Beside Henry, Alex’s phone pings and the screen lights up he snatches it up in a flash then sighs discontentedly. 

“Twitter.”

Henry hates seeing Alex in such a state, but there is very little he can actually do to help, aside from just being there for him, so that's what he does, rubbing Alex’s back as he sinks onto the bed in despair. Then the phone pings again.

It’s an instagram notification: emilyclaremont05 just added to their story.

Alex opens his phone and the story loads. His eyes go wide and he drops the phone in shock. Henry picks it up. It’s a photo of Emily in a chair, her pale blue shirt dyed a deep scarlet from a deep gash on her ribs and blood pouring from her nose. A bruise marrs much of the left side of her face and her eyes are rimmed red and puffy from tears. There is text over the top of the image.

Henry reads it aloud: “I have been kidnapped. If you would like me returned relatively intact, Mommy Claremont must repeal the Gun Control Act and ban gay marriage across all states.”

This is really fucking bad.

Then Zahra is at the door. “Situation room. Now.”

Alex nods mutely and Henry stands offering him a hand up. Alex accepts.

In the situation room, Ellen is pacing, just as Alex does when he is stressed. 

The picture is up on the screen and Henry notices Alex is looking anywhere but at it.

Henry snatches the controller off the table and turns off the screen. June lifts her head from her hands, her eyes bloodshot and her face tearstained. Nora is furiously typing on a computer and scribbling random numbers onto a sheet of paper. Henry doesn’t ask.

Ellen finally notices their presence and invites them to sit.

“The entire country is on immediate lockdown. No one is going in or out.” She says. “Not until we find her. June - work on my statement, Nora - keep doing…whatever it is you’re doing, Alex, Henry - have a seat.”

They do.

Ellen shoves a piece of paper in front of them both and Alex picks it up with a trembling hand. Henry can just barely make out the words WHAT WE KNOW written in bold on the top of the page. Alex scans the page and slides it across to Henry, who reads it quickly.

WHAT WE KNOW

1 - between 3 and 3:30 pm today, Emily Claremont Diaz was abducted.

2 - she is still in this country.

3 - her captors want the Gun Control Act repealed 

4 - her captors want gay marriage banned across all states.

“What are you going to do?” Henry asks.

Ellen lifts her chin. “The United States does not negotiate with terrorists. There can be no exceptions.”

“Mom-” Alex starts.

“No, Alex.” She says firmly. “This is the decision I have made. We must set an example. We must show these cowards that we will not be blackmailed into betraying all that we have worked for.”

"And if they hurt her? Your youngest child?"

"Darling, I know this is hard but this is what the Secret Service is for. We cannot act rashly."

Alex storms out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind him. Henry follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Please leave a kudos if you liked it and a comment letting me know your thoughts!!


	3. Part 3

Two hours. I think. I tried to keep count of the seconds, I lost track once or twice, but I think it has been two hours. Two hours in silence. Two hours of awful, aching, agonising pain. My stomach is burning with hunger, my hands are long since numb from the zip ties about my wrists.  
They know. Mom knows. They’re sending people to come find me. I know they are. Except if they don’t… Mom will never agree to their demands, and they will never let me go without a fight. I’m going to die here.  
No.  
I can’t afford to start thinking like this. I need something, anything, to distract myself from this situation. I start to sing Hamilton in my head.  
How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a Scotsman  
dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in the Caribbean  
By Providence, impoverished, in squalor, grow up to be a hero and a scholar…  
~~~  
I get halfway through Cabinet Battle no.1 when the door to the room opens again and Egghead and Gingerbeard come back in.  
“Here,” Gingerbeard says, throwing me a half-empty bottle of water.  
I gulp it down greedily, then immediately regret it as I double over and throw up onto the floor. They laugh again. I wipe my mouth with a trembling hand.  
“It’s been 3 hours and we’ve heard nothing from your mom,” says Egghead, “so we’ve been sent to help nudge her to a decision.” He nods to Gingerbeard who grips my jaw so hard that I cry out in pain. I definitely have a bruise there now. He releases me and I flex my jaw to work out the pain.  
Then he punches me. Hard. Across my left cheekbone. Then the blows rain fast and hard on my stomach, face, arms. I know that I am crying, that blood is dripping into my eye from a cut on my forehead, that I feel a sharp pain in my side as I hear the sickening snap of bone breaking.  
Gingerbeard steps away and I hear Egghead say “Got it”, but through the haze of pain, I barely wonder what ‘it’ is.  
I can feel blood dripping from my mouth and my eyes start to drift shut as I long to sink into a deep sleep, if only to stop the pain for a moment.  
My eyes snap open with shock as a bucket of freezing water is thrown over me. I gasp as the cold immediately sets into my bones, shivering.  
The men laugh as they leave the room, letting the door slam behind them.  
~~~  
I only know the cold. The biting, vicious cold that is so deep in me I feel as if I may never be warm again. I am shivering uncontrollably, my teeth chattering. I know I am crying.  
I’m going to die here. I will never see Mom or Dad or Alex or June or Leo or Nora or Henry again. I am scared of dying. I’m scared of what it will do to Mom, if she will invoke the 25th amendment. I trust the Veep, Mike, but Mom is what this country needs. If she gives up, if it’s my fault… stop. Stop thinking like this. Mom will never give up, she’s worked too hard for this.  
And while I know that’s true, I can’t help but hear the nagging voice in the back of my head: if she does, it will be my fault.

And everything she has worked so hard for will be ruined.


	4. Part 4

Ellen paces. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

She can’t show weakness, can’t cry, they will look for any excuse to say she is unfit or overemotional and she can’t afford to give them that. Emily is her child, her baby, and she still is a child! Ellen doesn’t understand how someone could be so cruel as to do that to a child. _Only republicans_ , she thinks to herself. She can’t appear too emotional, they will use that to discredit her, yet she can’t appear indifferent or they will say she doesn’t care. _This would be a whole lot easier if she were a man._

“Ma‘am?” An aide is at the door, “Are you ready? It’s time.”

Ellen puts on a brave face and steps through the doorway. Almost immediately cameras flash and reporters yell questions to her.

“Madam President, will you do as they say?”

“Madam President, will you negotiate with these terrorists?”

“Madam President, are you going to let your daughter die?” That one catches Ellen off guard. Is Emily going to die? _Her child, her baby, dead._ Will Alex ever forgive her if she lets that happen? Will June?

She shakes off her thoughts and holds up a silencing hand. The room falls into a hush instantly. _So they do still respect her._ Ellen clears her throat and places her statement upon the lectern. She doesn’t really need the cue cards, but she needed to distract June so she pretended that she did. She already knew exactly what she had to say.

“Nobody is more concerned for the welfare of my youngest child, Emily Claremont-Diaz, than I,” she says, “I have had teams working every second of every hour since we discovered her absence to ensure her safe return to us.

”I must now speak to those cowardly enough to attack a defenceless child rather than take their frustrations to the polling stations. You will not get away with this. I will not do as you ask. I will have my daughter by my side once more. You are angry, I understand, we all have our grievances with the systems in place, but I implore you to consider how your actions reflect on others who believe the same thing as you. You give yourself, and all republicans a bad name.

”And finally, I speak to the American people. This senate will not be swayed by the threats of violent cowards. Your laws and your rights shall never be in question. The United States of America does not negotiate with terrorists.”

With that, Ellen gathers herself and walks out of the room. Until she finds a trash can and throws up violently into it. And that’s where June finds her, curled on the floor, next to the garbage can, sobbing her eyes out. June holds her and strokes her hair until she stops crying.

”It’s my fault.” Ellen hiccups.

”No, Mom, how could it possibly-“

”If I weren’t President...”

”Mom! You aren’t allowed to think like that! Look at all the good you’ve done, I know she doesn’t blame you.”

”And now we don’t even know if she’s still alive,” Ellen continues,

”She is still alive, Mom, come on we watch enough crappy crime shows to know that they never shoot the hostage.”

Ellen hiccups again, then laughs faintly. “Look at me. _I_ should be comforting _you._ I’m the mom here and I can’t even do that.

’You’re allowed to not be strong all the time,” June says, right as ever, “You’re only human.”

She’s right, Ellen is only human, but so is Emily, and that’s what Ellen is worried about.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a kudos and a comment if you liked this! I will try to update whenever possible :)


End file.
